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The Final Choice

To read the second part of this story, "The second Choice!",Click Here

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As she raised her head, she could see the mirror image of a
vulnerable face and blood red eyes with tears flowing down the cheeks
uncontrollably.

Six months ago, she had decided to break up with him,
thereby ending the most special bond of her heart. In the span of these six
months, there was not a single day, literally not even a single day, when he
did not cross her mind. No matter how busy she was or how hectic her schedule
was or how upset she was; he was always there, in the back of her head, and
shutting her mind to other thoughts and focusing on him was like a bitter-sweet
homecoming. Days were still easier to pass but the nights were difficult. There
were times when she cried herself to sleep and there were times when his
memories left her smiling. There were times when his thoughts were painful for
her and there were times when they motivated her to keep moving forward. Some
nights she spent, imagining spending them with him but some nights left her
feeling uneasy.

Not that they shared bitter vibes. Even after six months of
parting ways, they both knew that they could share possibly anything and
everything under the sun with each other. Yet, things were not the same. She would
no longer be able to smile at the innocent insecurity that used to engulf him
when she wore “certain” kinds of outfits; and nor could she now command the
right to playfully attempt to make him jealous. His arms would no longer be
there to hold her and he would no longer tell her “I understand” when she hit
her panic button. He would no longer tell her,”I don’t want you to date anyone
else” and she would no longer draw happiness in honouring his words.

Nothing changed between them, yet everything did.

He wasn’t the first guy she loved. It was not certain if he would
be the last either. But he would indeed be special for her, always. She had most
of her first‘s with him and a lot of his first’s too were attributed to her.
Although, in her past, she had been in a relationship-a step above dating-this
was the first time, when to an extent, she had opened up her soul to someone.
When someone had given her that space to discover a lot about her own self. It
was with him that she discovered and experienced her desires. Co-incidentally, it
was the same for him. He was the first guy to tell her with authority and
conviction “to not date anyone else”, and she was the first girl he said this
to. He played a crucial role in showing her what her passions were and where it
was that her calling lay.

Of course she had been in love before too, but this was the
first time she had lived it. And she had lived every bit of it! Happiness,
pain, tears, smiles, joy, togetherness, separation, watch him falling out of
love, and then in love with someone else, feeling happy for him, longing for
him! She lived every bit of it, in every form.

That vulnerable face with blood shot eyes was not a reflection
she usually saw. But once in a while, when it did appear, it indeed was
difficult for her to handle herself. She fell to her knees on the bathroom
floor and, she cried her heart out.

She then splashed water on her face, focusing her eyes and came
out. She sat on her table and reflected on the sudden flush of emotions she was
going through. That night, a part of her wanted to call him up and shout at him
for no coherent reason, while another part of her, just wanted to be held and
reassured that with time, everything would be fine. She knew well that love could
not be forced, so she as well could not force herself out of it. That would only
make things far more difficult for her. He is no longer a part of her life, he
is gone and he is happy with someone else. No matter how painful it is, he is
happy, and for the labour of love, she too has to ensure that in no way does
she do anything that would be derogatory to the dignity of love. More so
because, beneath this disturbed girl, lies the lady who loves him, loves him
enough to respect his choices and rejoice in his happiness.

That night, she made another choice: To be her own anchor.
She knew that she cannot depend on people to get her out of this. It was her
life, her love, her decision to love him without being promised commitment and
her decision to love him without expecting anything. Now was the time to stand
by it. To ensure that the dignity of this love is held high. Precisely why she
decided not to repress any of her feelings and took pride in who she was, what
she thought and how she loved. Although that wasn’t rational and easily
accepted by the societal norms, it was pure, unalloyed and intended no harm to
anyone. And she made this conviction her harbor, for nothing, but the labour of
love.

Dear readers,
In my last blog post titled, "Expectations & Attachment are two different aspects in love :)", i had mentioned a small story of Saksham and Raima. Those of you who haven't read that post, pleaseClick Here.Now let me confess that the story of Raima and Saksham is not fictional. It is very much real and I AM THE RAIMA...yes, the author of this blog, Rupali Tyagi is the Raima of that story :) Coming to Saksham, dear readers, I choose not to reveal his identity and I request you all to please respect his privacy as well as this decision of mine.

What I shared with Saksham is precious. It has sculpted me in many ways. Made me a much stronger person and taught the true meaning of detached love. Here is my tribute to something so special and so beautiful.....and oh, the bond I shared with him doesn't have any name. Why? Well, By the time you complete reading this post, you will understand.